Scaramouche, Scaramouche will you do the Fandango?
by Writer Monkey
Summary: Detective Kate Beckett had one weakness. Cheesy 70s pop music. Rick Castle discovers this one morning as the lovely detective picks him up to head to the station.


Right, Ok. So I heard this song in the radio today and the idea just popped into my head. Obviously not the most in character piece I've written, but I just couldn't pass up this idea. Lol. Who doesn't love "Bohemian Rhapsody" anyway?

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Once again, if I did, Beckett would jump Castle's bones with a world shattering kiss and make all of us fangirls squee uncontrollably.

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Becket had gone to bed early, gotten a satisfactory night sleep, and her alarm clock didn't seem as loud as it usually was. This, she thought, proved a good start to the day. Slipping on her green fuzzy robe, she shoves her feet into slippers sitting next to her bed. Shuffling to the kitchen, she flips on her coffee machine. Standing in the middle of the kitchen for a short moment, she stretches her arms above her head and lets out a soft yawn. Brushing the hair from her eyes, she pads back to the bathroom for a shower.

The steam from the shower fogs up her mirror, droplets slide down its façade. Wiping it down with the sleeve of her robe she tosses her hair up in a towel. She pleasantly notices that, as if magically, the bags under her eyes have disappeared. What a cure-all sleep really was. Getting dressed quickly, she enters the kitchen and pours herself a mug of freshly brewed. Of course it wasn't as tasty as the espresso machine at work, but it would do. Caffeine was the only thing that _truly_ counted in the morning, not taste.

Heading back to the bathroom she puts the finishing touches on her morning routine – makeup. Her expert hand slicks on the black liquid eyeliner into her trademark cat eye look. Her eye shadow brush draws in circles across the outside of her lids, creating a smoky, sultry appearance. Spraying her perfume in the air and walking through slowly, she pauses for a moment and looks out of the corner of her eye, thinking. Spraying it directly on her wrist, she rubs it on her other. Her wrists innately reach behind where her ears and neck meet, and rub the excess off. Rolling her eyes, she puts it back down on the rim of the sink. No wonder Castle always whispered in her ear. If she had only known that the second time he did so, he spent the rest of the day looking for the perfume at Macy's, "just to have".

On the way down to her car, Kate called Castle, informing him that she was just leaving and to be ready- she'd call when she was there. Clicking the remote start on her car, Kate jumps in and speeds off to Rick's. This was becoming somewhat of a routine since Rick refused to buy a car. His repetitive "I've never needed one" began to wear on her and she finally gave in, agreeing to carpool each morning. In the beginning it was a bother having to drive out of her way, but now she was beginning to look at the bright side – she had extra time to sing in the car. Kate knew she was completely tone deaf, but that never stopped her when she was alone. Her favorite? Cheesey 70's pop, the stuff she had grown up with. It always seems that the decade of music you grow up with trumps everything when you're having a good day. Flipping through the channels as she darts in and out of traffic like a well-seasoned New York City driver, she comes across "Bohemian Raphsody", which reminds her of her 10th grade homecoming dance with her best friends.

The quicker the music got, the more aggressive her driving became. She ended up at Rick's sooner than usual so before she called up for him, she started to slightly bop around to the music. It started with a little bit of air piano, then escalated to using her steering wheel as a drum. Little did she know, Rick had gotten ready early that day. He had been watching her as he walked towards the marked police car, holding back his laughter. Opening the door to the passenger side, Kate's squeal of a high note came blasting out of the car, but stopped abruptly as it started. She didn't _dare_ look to see who opened the door. She knew who it was and she _knew_ she would never, _ever_ live this down. This would be worse that Castle finding out she was a fan of his.

"My, my, Kate. I never knew you were a Queen fan. You should be honored, you sound just like Freddie Mercuryyyyy's dog being _strangled_." He says with a laugh, plopping down on the seat next to her, buckling his seat belt.

Turning her head to face him, her face quickly changes from the look of utter humiliation into one of a death stare reserved only for the hardened criminals that wouldn't break. She grabs his seat belt, pulling it as tight as it could go without actually cutting off his breathing. "You mention this ever. again. I'll break your face in two. Got it?"

In time with the music, Castle bursts out singing, "MAMA MIA, MAMA MIA, LET ME GO!" with a pained expression on his face.

Shaking her head, Kate rests her head on the steering wheel fighting the urge to laugh.

"Don't worry, Kate. I'm a closet Queenie myself." With that he opens his mouth and winks one eye exaggeratedly. He changes the subject almost out of sympathy.

"Wanna get some coffee before we head in?"

Thankful for the change in subject, Kate speeds out into traffic. "Sure, where did you want to go?"

"QUEEN STREET!"

Kate's face falls and she realizes he won't let this go anytime soon.

"CASTLE!"

"Oh, come on. You_ knew _that one was coming!"

She grips the wheel and speeds to the precinct listening to Castle mocking her and "Bohemian Rhapsody" still playing in the background. What a way to start the day.


End file.
